


Tumble

by writing1swat



Series: Sammy and I [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Handcuffs, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Sammy and I verse, Some Plot, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing1swat/pseuds/writing1swat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Sammy and I Verse</strong> </p><p>The first time Sammy brings up their ‘issue’ in their relationship is a week before Sammy leaves for Stanford. Of course Dean didn’t know there was an issue and now he’s more than a little apprehensive to giving up control to his little brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumble

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really sex but kind of is? Well okay it's more banter but oh well. Timeline is set before **Sammy and I** , a week before Sam goes to Stanford. Sam is eighteen and Dean is twenty-two.

“Dude, what?” 

Sam rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he looked at his brother. He repeated, “You heard me, asshole. I want to top. You.” He paused to lick his chapped lips, his heart pounding rapidly at the image of his brother beneath him. Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. He never got to top. Ever. 

Dean opened his mouth to speak but with the way his brother was scooting backwards on the bed made Sam think it was more likely going to be a protest than an agreement so Sam pressed, “Come on, Dean. I’m gonna be leaving soon, remember? We only got…” He scrunched his face as he tallied the days off in his head. “We only got a week left, give or take a day.”

He watched as Dean frowned, pursing his lips together. Dean’s tongue darted out to lick at his lips (a habit Sam noticed lately that Dean did when he got nervous about something) and inadvertently Sam imagined what his big brother’s lips would look like sucking his…

Sam had to shake his head to literally clear the image away before he got way off tracked. He wasn’t going to lose this battle just because of what a lovely image his brother made. No he was certainly not going to lose. Dean was watching him right back when Sam finally got a hold of himself, those obscene lips of his tugged in a tiny smirk, like he knew exactly what Sam had imagined and Sam, for his part, was trying his best to not lose the small bits of composure he managed to gather. He wanted to stalk over to the bed there and then and pin his stupid, selfish brother, wipe the smug grin off his face.

“Dean, come on,” Sam said, close to begging when Dean didn’t move or respond.

He was sitting in the middle of bed just watching Sam with interest, the bedspread pooled at the foot of the bed some time ago, in nothing but boxers and combat boots. Sam remembered Dean coming back inside last night drunk and dead on his feet. Sam had helped him out of his jeans while Dean struggled out of his shirt before falling head first into the pillows and promptly fell asleep without a word to Sam.

Sam was annoyed but not enough to not at least kiss his brother on the forehead as was the (lately at least) traditional Winchester ‘good night’ ritual.

Dean finally sighed, the first tiny crack that Sam could see in his nearly impenetrable wall. He looked off to the side to the clock and groaned, before looking back to Sam who was still standing by the door, not daring to move. Finally Dean rolled his eyes and rolled off the bed. “Come on, Sammy, we can talk this over later, yeah?” Sam made to protest but Dean raised a finger to silence him. Glowering, Sam shut his mouth as his brother said, “Breakfast first at least. And it’s your turn to pay. Now help me find my damn jeans.”

Rolling his eyes and sighing Sam reluctantly went to help Dean.

 

 

Dean was older and therefore the ‘boss’ so to speak. What Sam and Dean had wasn’t a whole lot different from their normal relationship as brothers, except for the fact there was more touching and kissing and…sex. Great sex might he add. It was pretty cool and Dean found he didn’t mind the looks and knowing smirks they got from motel managers and waitresses and strangers as much as he used to.

The only person they really had to hide their not so brotherly relationship from was Dad. And just that thought sometimes sent an exhilarating jolt down Dean’s spine (damn was Dean one kinky motherfucker).

Dean shoveled bites after bites of pancakes down his throat before looking up and catching his brother’s amused stare. “Wha?” he asked, the word muffled by the food he didn’t have time to swallow. He reached over Sam’s hand, skin brushing against skin causing Sam to shiver slightly, to grab the syrup bottle. Dean couldn’t help but smirk a little that even a small thing like that could make Sammy respond. And he wanted to top. Dean snorted inwardly at the thought.

Sure it would be an interesting experience to say the least but it was definitely better when Dean took control because at least he knew what the hell he was doing. It’s called experience, Sammy boy, he thought to himself as he poured a generous amount of syrup over the remainder of his pancakes. God that looked delicious. He chewed the rest of his food and swallowed before polishing the rest of the pancakes in record time with a good helping of coffee.

When he finished, he glanced to meet Sam again and noticed that his brother had also finished his plate. Dean barked off a short laugh and stood and stretched. He waited for his brother to pay the tab.

When they were back in the Impala, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, wondering if he should bring the topic Sam had brought up earlier in the morning or leave it, hoping his brother will eventually forget about it. Dean turned the engine on and peeled out of the parking lot. He almost thought he was safe as they made their way silently back to the motel to wait for Dad when Sam decided to open his big stupid mouth.

“So?” Sam asked almost hesitantly.

“So what?” Dean asked playing it dumb.

Sam rolled his eyes as the motel came into sight again. “So what’s the verdict?”

“No, Sammy,” Dean said shortly, pulling into the familiar parking lot. He picked a spot closest to the door and killed the engine. Dean was quick to escape before Sam could ask ‘why’ and try to wheedle for an agreement. Sammy knew how to play the little brother card a little too well and Dean knew he would eventually give in. Every ‘no’ eventually always turned to a (reluctant) ‘yes’. And there was no chance in Hell Dean was giving up this. He liked the control he had, the one thing he had over a thousand things in life. Sammy wasn’t getting in his ass, at least not so easily.

Although Dean was firm with his stance on the ‘issue’ (there hadn’t even been one before but apparently it was an issue to Sam), Sammy was annoying and persistent, a dog with a bone. He bitched more than usual about Dad and hunting and wanting to be normal. 

Dean considered himself, at this point in time, to be an expert at tuning Sammy out when he got like that. But even Dean had his limits and when Sam started to talk about how great it would be to be at Stanford, how he would finally be free from Dad and Dean…well, that was kind of crossing the line because dude, he could understand Dad, yeah, they never really saw eye to eye but he was fucking Dean (or at least Dean was fucking him) so talk like that? Not really cool, no way.

Another line Sam seemed to have no trouble crossing was withholding sex.

Like seriously. He fucking flat out refused when Dean came onto him, deep voice oozing with filth and everything. Dean was, to say the least, flabbergasted. Because it usually sent little brother all shy and looking down and blushing like a pre-teen girl with a massive crush. And now all Sam did was look him straight in the face and say, “No.” Like Dean was a dog or a four year old.

Oh god was it wrong on so many fucking levels.

“Come on,” Dean tried, palming Sam’s ass as he sat on the bed with his laptop on his lap.

Sam swatted Dean’s hand away like Dean was some annoying buzzing fly. “No means freaking no, Dean,” Sam said not looking up at his brother.

Dean groaned and flopped back on the bed. It was just two days from when Sam was going to leave for Stanford and Dean hadn’t seen any action lately. He needed to get laid and he knew there was only one way to get it. Sighing, Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and watched Sam play Solitaire for a silent moment. He licked his lips, preparing himself mentally for what he was going to say.

“Sammy,” Dean said, suddenly hesitant to continue with his current train of thought. His palms were sweaty and he found himself unconsciously rubbing them against the motel bedspread.

Sam clicked a couple more cards, still barely paying Dean any attention. “Yeah, Dean?”

“You win,” Dean relented.

There was a beat of silence. Dean watched as his brother stilled. He didn’t turn around as he said quietly, “What? What did you say, Dean?”

“I said ‘you win’,” Dean said gritting his teeth now. He stopped rubbing his hands over the sheets, fisting them instead as he continued (now that the cat was out of the bag, the words seemed to pour out smoother), “I’ve done some thinking and I decided to give it a shot after all.” He shrugged once he was done even though he knew Sam couldn’t see the movement. 

Sam closed his laptop slowly and put it down on the bed beside him, then turned to look at Dean. He looked kind of surprised, shocked even to hear the words he longed for Dean to say coming out of his mouth. “Are you…are you serious?” _Are you sure_?

Dean licked his lips and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, man. Come on. You wanna be on top tonight, little bro? Then fucking top me.” _I dare you_ , he added silently in his head as Sam’s eyes grew wide, then narrowed a little, then took on a predatory look, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

Sam was on his hands and knees and crawling over to Dean before Dean realized he wasn’t breathing, just holding his breath. He released it sharply as Sam climbed on top of him, settling on his jeans. Sam took hold of Dean’s head, cupping his face and leaned down so their foreheads touched each other’s. 

“This what you want, Dean?” he asked in a low voice, trying for a seductive whisper that backfired spectacularly because all Dean saw was his little brother _trying_ (and failing) to be seductive. Dean couldn’t help the laughter that trickled from his throat as Sam pulled back with an adorable puzzled look on his face. “What? What’s so funny?”

Dean was drowning in laughter, had to be. Oh god. He felt himself being sat up a little straighter, his brother looking down at him with concern. “I…oh god, I’m sorry, Sammy. Just…” Dean broke in another fit of laughter and this time when he opened his eyes to see his brother, Sam was wearing an annoyed look on his face, his mouth curved down in an unhappy frown (which was definitely not a good look on Sam either). “Sorry,” Dean said again, quickly sobering. “Just don’t try the dirty talk. All I’m gonna say now, dude.”

Sam glowered, his arms crossed as he sat on his brother’s stomach. “I thought you wanted sex,” Sam said threateningly. He looked ready to bolt and go back to playing on his laptop any minute and oh shit, Dean really wanted to sex, any way he could get it. Note to self: definitely don’t make fun of Sammy in the throes of hot passion, or when making-out which leads to throes of hot passion. 

“Yeah, yeah ‘course I do, Sammy,” Dean said eagerly, reaching across to grip the back of Sam’s head and push them closer again. “I’m sorry. I won’t laugh anymore. Promise.”

Sam sighed against him before looking down. Dean followed his gaze to his brother’s jean clad crotch. “I kinda lost…you know,” Sam said with a shrug, “when you were laughing.”

“You had a hard on before?” Dean asked curiously. The thought of his brother just thinking about topping Dean and getting hard like that was, well, it was kind of hot, Dean had to admit. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, “but I kind of lost it now.” He looked pointedly back at Dean.

Dean shrugged. “Sorry, dude. Want me to help?” He waggled his eyebrows and smirked at Sam to which his brother snorted with laughter. Dean reached over and palmed his brother’s crotch, getting a moan from Sam. “Still wanna top me, Sammy? Bet you’d look better beneath me than I do. Bet your ass will feel good with my cock buried in it. What do you say, little brother?” He continued to stroke Sammy through his jeans as he whispered in his ear. It was a dirty trick and Dean knew it but he was really itching to fuck someone. Dean had held himself back at the bars ever since he entered this relationship with his brother and for almost a week of no sex, Dean was getting a little stir crazy.

For a moment, Dean thought he won, thought he turned the tables on Sam, his brother lost in the sensation of his hand on his cock, rubbing hard through his jeans but then suddenly Dean’s wrist was grabbed. Dean startled as Sam flipped Dean onto his back on the bed, wrist pinned by the weight of Sam’s hand.

“No, Dean,” Sam said, leaning in close to Dean’s face so he could feel the warmth of his breath. “You’re gonna take it tonight and you’re gonna like it.”

Dean snorted, struggling against Sam’s weight. “Doubtful, Sammy,” he said, trying to work his wrist loose but Sam held on tight. Holy fuck when did his brother get to be so strong?

“You said I could top you tonight,” Sam said pointedly holding onto position.

“Yeah I did,” Dean panted, “but I never said I’d take it lying down.”

That managed to get an amused grin from Sam. “Guess you’re right. Good thing I actually came prepared.” Dean opened his mouth to ask what the fuck Sam was talking about but firmly clamped it closed as Sam reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, dangling in Dean’s face.

Holy shit.

Sam had a triumph grin on his face as he said, “Oh and Dean? One rule for tonight.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked, heart pounding rapidly at the sight of the handcuffs.

“Don’t call me ‘Sammy’.”

Ten minutes later Dean was handcuffed to the bed in nothing but thin boxers. Sam was still fully dressed much to his chagrin. With the smirk on his jackass of a brother’s face, Dean had a feeling Sam knew exactly how this was affecting him and he was enjoying every minute of it.

 _Yeah, soak it up, buddy, you’ll get what’s coming to you when this is all over_ , Dean thought irritably.

Sam was getting way too comfortable in his new position. 

“You gonna fuck me or stare at me all night?” Dean asked finally when all Sam did was sit back and look at him.

He grinned triumphantly as Sam’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. Sure Dean was the one all tied up but Sam was too easy to get riled up. It made Dean wonder if maybe it was the guy taking it up the ass that was really in control of things. If so he might have to reconsider letting Sam take the reins the last couple days. Dean sighed at the thought of his brother leaving for Stanford soon. It was going to really, really suck.

As if Sam knew what he was thinking of, Dean was suddenly startled out of his thoughts as his brother cupped his chin and gently stroked the side of his face. Dean leaned into Sam’s ministrations without hesitation. It was certainly a weird feeling being on the receiving end to all this affection. Dean was reminded of all the times he looked after Sammy, from packing his lunches when he was still just a little kid to kissing his brother good night when they entered a relationship with each other.

Dean could count on just one hand how many times it was _Sam_ that initiated the kisses or hugs or whatever because it was Dean most of the time. It felt kind of good to have someone stroking his hair, kissing him softly on the cheek, like when he was just four and Mom was still alive and Dad was there (not off somewhere hunting some monster that liked to eat people). Dean’s eyes closed briefly as he felt Sam lean over him to kiss him chastely on the lips.

It was slow and soft and so unlike how Dean kissed him sometimes. 

“I’m gonna make this good for you, big bro,” Sam said into the kiss, hands trailing down slowly to Dean’s bare chest. “By the end of the night, you’re gonna be begging me to come.”

At the bold declaration Dean’s eyes snapped open to see the challenge in his brother’s eyes. He opened his mouth to ask, ‘Seriously?’ And was met with a sudden sharp tug of his right nipple. Dean let out a hiss as Sam grinned, eyebrows raised watching to see how Dean would respond.

Dean opened his mouth again and this time he said, “That all you got?” He paused, then grinned and added, “ _Sammy_?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and pinched it again. Dean yelped, the sound undignified and unmanly. “Dude!”

“I told you not to call me ‘Sammy’, remember? Rules are rules, Dean,” Sam responded with a shrug.

Dean glowered, wishing not for the first time he could grab his brother and turn the tables on him. He rattled the cuffs instead, the threat in the air. “What are you gonna do then? Punish me?” he asked incredulously. Because there was no way…certainly no way his little brother would have the balls to…

Sam’s eyes narrowed at the thought and Dean kind of hoped he didn’t give the kid any ideas. _Fucking big mouth you got there, Winchester_ , he thought. 

“Funny that you would say that,” Sam said lowly with a raised eyebrow. “Dad ever spank your ass, Dean?”

Dean stilled immediately and even Sam seemed surprised by what came out of his mouth. Wincing, Sam said, “Wow that sounded way better in my head.”

“Dude, if you want sex, don’t ever bring up ‘Dad’ again,” Dean said, trying to erase the image of Dad slapping his bare ass from his mind. Gross. “That should be a freaking rule.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah sorry. Guess you’re right. I suck at the dirty talk.”

Dean snorted because that was the understatement of the year right there. “Leave it to the expert, little bro.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and Dean had to suppress the urge to groan. Seriously maybe Dean should always top because at least they had sex when Dean did. All Sam was doing right now was finding stuff to complain about. “What is it now?”

“Don’t call me ‘little bro’ either,” Sam decided finally. “It’s a turn off, dude.”

“Fine,” Dean said through gritted teeth, wanting to strangle his brother even more (well maybe after fucking him). “Can we fuck already?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a wave of his hand, like sex was some trivial matter and he wasn’t sure why Dean was getting annoyed.

For the record Dean was more than a little annoyed, he was a lot annoyed.

“You do know what to do, right?” he couldn’t help but say. “You gotta put your cock in my ass, dude.”

Sam snorted as he trailed his fingers over Dean’s chest, nails raking over his nipples. Dean’s breath hitched. “I know what I’m doing, Dean,” Sam said, annoyance seeping in his voice. “You know what I think? Next time, I’m gagging you. So I don’t have to hear you complain about every little thing you think I do wrong.”

“I complain about every little thing? Dude, I think you’re talking about yourself, princess,” Dean snarked, wincing when Sam tugged a little too hard on his left nipple. “Would you quit messing with those and just get to the good part already?”

“Yeah definitely gagging you,” Sam grumbled but moved to tug down Dean’s boxers all the same. “This was seriously not how I imagined this evening playing out.”

“Wait, what? You–ouch! Fuck!” 

Sam effectively twisted Dean’s right nipple to shut up. “Say another word, Dean, and I’m gonna stuff one of your ties in your mouth,” Sam said gesturing to the duffle.

Dean scowled but closed his mouth. Pleased with Dean’s cooperation, Sam pulled Dean’s boxers to his ankles and got to work on his own clothes. Finally at least they were getting somewhere. 

Once Sam was down to just his own boxers and socks, he climbed back on top of Dean and leaned down to trail kisses down his neck. Dean let out a satisfied groan as Sam’s hands trailed down to touch Dean everywhere. He rattled the cuffs, wishing he could touch Sam back but Sam paid no mind to the noise, one big right hand going down to stroke Dean’s cock a couple times before finding its way to his ass.

Dean startled a little at the touch. “Relax, big bro,” Sam said in his ear. Dean tried to as Sam’s hand hovered just over his hole. Fuck was this weird. Dean’s breath hitched as Sam circled it with an index finger. “Come on, man, relax. It’s gonna feel good, real good. I promise.”

“You keep saying that,” Dean hissed, knowing he wasn’t supposed to talk but couldn’t help himself anyway. “Just come on then. We don’t got all night. I can take it, Sammy.” He wriggled his ass as his brother’s eyes narrowed.

Taking the bait, Sam pushed one finger in. _Dry_.

 

 

The next morning also didn't go like Sam planned. 

“Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Dude, I can’t believe you forgot the lube!”

“Well, no, it was on the nightstand but you provoked me. Remember?”

“Oh and that makes everything justified? My ass fucking hurts, Sam! It feels like I can’t sit for a week!”

“Maybe if you’d stop complaining during sex…”

“You still got at least one more night before you’re officially College-boy, right?”

“Uh…yeah, I guess? What does that have to do with anything, Dean?”

“Your ass. My cock. Tonight. Make it a date. I’m so gonna pound you into next Sunday.”


End file.
